DRACOCOR
by Bailey Holliday
Summary: I guess you'll just have to open me up to see what's inside.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER – Do NOT own the characters or w.e else it's all J.K

WARNING – This is a SLASH story, meaning that yes, there will be homosexual relations in it. In fact, the main relationship will be a homosexual relationship between Harry and Draco, if you can't handle that I suggest you click the back button now.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

How had the Great Draco Malfoy fallen so? Draco paused in his thoughts. How was he 'The Great' Draco Malfoy? He blanched. Draco wasn't 'Great' he was just a silly little school boy who fancied himself a prince because of his blood status, family status and his unwavering ability to be an intimidating arse.

Still, how had life come to this? It hardly seemed fair, but maybe it was… Maybe Karma was catching up with him after years of being a Jack-Ass-In-A-Box. Shaking his head, Draco again told himself, _It's just not fair! _Weren't his father and his fathers… 'Friends' enough punishment? This was just cruel. He hadn't been that mean… Had he? It seemed unlikely, not that it really mattered, not right now anyhow.

Draco forced himself back to his dimming reality.

"You're a Malfoy, so you damn well better start acting like one!"

"How dare you embarrass me like this you little whelp!"

"I'd rather see you die then continue to tarnish the Malfoy name!"

Draco flinched painfully at the voice, an echo of his memories. He stilled himself trying in vain to ease his aching body. _Aching, _he grimaced, _what an understatement! _

A shiver tore down Draco's spine, his face twisting in agony as his body twitched with the shivering sensation. Draco had always enjoyed summer nights such as this, the stars stretching out endlessly in the cloudless sky above him. The cool breeze caressing all that could be touched, the ground still radiating the warmth it had absorbed from the sun that day.

That thought drew a choking sob from him. The cool breeze was now a brutal freezing wind, torturing him further with each forced shiver. The sweet scent of the night lost to him, the blood clotted on his face plastered itself firmly over his nostrils. The stars ceased to exist in his weakened, hazy vision. Though Draco did find solace in the warm, earthy floor beneath him. At least that hadn't failed him.

_Ok,_ he thought to himself, _time to move again. _

His everything groaned in protest, each time he stopped to break it became harder and harder to start again. But he knew he had to, he would surely die if he didn't. However… He might die anyway.

He shook his head violently; _no thoughts like that! _He was determined; he had to get to Severus. In one swift movement Draco bent his arms, his palms flat against the ground near his face, and pushed violently, forcing his body up. He couldn't help the little whimper that escaped him at the action. He shuffled clumsily forward; searing pain throbbed his entire body with each step, yet he pressed on.

~::.::~

Severus froze, leaning slightly in his chair to stare out the entrance arch of the living room. He sighed, glancing at the clock, 9:56. Much too late for visitors in his opinion, though he had never had a burglar… Maybe it was a cat, no no; the sound was much too loud. He huffed quietly and set his book down on the coffee table before sauntering down the hall.

Severus had seen many things in his life, things that most people wouldn't even see in their nightmares, but this… The sight in front of him filled his whole self with numbing disgust and horror. The thump he had heard at his door had, in fact, been his beaten and bloodied godson, falling unconscious on his doorstep.

Hurriedly he scooped the boy up in his arms, panting slightly as he carted him to the spare bedroom. He set to work instantly, grabbing his cauldron and ingredients that were common to healing potions.

Severus' shaking hands began pulling the buttons back through the holes, undressing his godson to see the extent of the damage. Gently he peeled the blood soaked shirt from Draco's torso and tossed it to the floor before lying Draco back down.

Severus gasped in pure shock, frozen, unable to do anything but stare. Almost in the centre of his chest, right over his heart, was a scar size enough to pull his heart out of.

"Good Lord…" Though he knew this was the work of no such Lord.

His fingers grazed lightly over the scar, cringing when Draco did.

"Sorry…" he whispered as soothingly as he could even though he knew Draco was too far-gone to hear him. He continued his inspection, noting that all injuries he may have had were healed, there weren't even any scars or bruises to indicate that he may have been hurt. Well, except the odd one on his chest, had someone burned it closed? That couldn't be good for it but it looked like it had healed well enough. All the same Severus continued to perform a few diagnostic spells. Exhaustion, malnutrition, hunger, thirst. These were what plagued him now. However, Severus did notice that even the gentlest touch caused the boy to flinch and whimper.

So Severus began brewing, one cauldron for exhaustion, one for malnutrition and one for the pain. He fed him first the potion to ease his pains away, followed closely by the nutrient packed potion, then with a last whispered 'Good-night' he slipped him the Dreamless Sleep potion.

~::.::~

"Really Severus? Pride And Prejudice?" Though the sound was weak Severus still jumped at his godsons voice. Recovering from his shock he scoffed before placing the book gently on the nightstand.

"There is nothing wrong with my choice in reading material."

Draco's lips twitched, had he been in better health they would've formed a smirk but at present they could only shape into a lazy, lop-sided sort of half smirk.

"How are you feeling Draco?"

Draco groaned slightly, pushing himself up to sit. Severus carefully helped prop him up comfortably. Draco yawned, winced, then turned to Severus.

"My whole body still aches." Severus nodded before pouring a designated amount of the pain-killing potion into a glass and handing it to Draco. Draco guzzled it gratefully, waiting a few seconds for it to take affect before stretching.

"That's much better, thanks Severus." Since Draco didn't mention any other symptoms or pains Severus took that to mean there was nothing else. He scrutinised the boy in front of him.

"Before you ask, mum sent me here."

"But why? What happened?"

Draco winced but not from pain, well, not physical pain. Severus read it perfectly.

"Draco you must tell me what happened."

Draco nodded.

"I know Sev, I'm just so hungry," he paused, then turned to Severus, "Can't we get something to eat and I'll tell you while we feast?"

The potions master sat silent for a moment, Draco only used the nick name 'Sev' when he was feeling vulnerable, whatever had happened must've been very serious, though that much had already been made obvious by the state he had found the child in. He stood nodding in agreement to Draco's condition. So long as he got the story…

When they were seated comfortably, and Draco had his much-desired feast before him, Severus noted that Draco though starving, still ate with impeccable manners. He allowed the boy to eat for a few moments before delving once more into his question. Draco's face grew sombre as he recalled the events previous to this.

"Well it all started when father told me I was to join the death eaters," He began carefully, his voice no more than a whisper. Severus gasped, _join the death eaters? Draco was much too young wasn't he?_

-------------------------------------- FLASH BACK ------------------------------------

Draco's father grabbed his shoulder firmly; he stood tall, his pristine robes falling with effortless grace over his stiff figure.

"Today is a good day, Draco," he had said, "Today you can bask in the glory of receiving such an honour as the mark of our Lord."

A jolt of fear shot through Draco, this wasn't what he wanted, he'd been too scared to say so before, he'd thought he could slip under the radar, or he'd hoped he could anyway. His father felt the shiver that made its way over his sons' body.

"Don't be so surprised, Draco," He scorned calmly, "You're of age now, even if just barely. No matter, the moment you turned seventeen you were due the mark."

Draco's heart clattered fearfully against his ribs, for a foolish moment he thought it might tear out of his chest.

"The Dark Lord will be here any moment to brand you," He informed proudly, Draco's heart skipped a beat, "Congratulations my son, you will finally stand to proudly back the Malfoy name."

Draco panicked, and suddenly all the consequences in the world didn't matter, not faced with such a horrible future that was guaranteed to him the moment he was marked.

"B-but Fath-"

"No need for foolish insecurities, you may be a failure in many ways but I am sure you will make an excellent follower of our Lord."

Draco hated how he said 'Our Lord'.

"I don't want to take the mark." He also hated how his voice quivered so pathetically at that moment. His fathers grip tightened painfully on his shoulder.

"Really Draco, there is no need for such foolish talk. Don't joke around with me." His voice was tight, scary and threatening, but Draco was trapped. He was to be confronted with his greatest fear if he didn't do something and quick. He pulled sharply out of his fathers' grasp and stood tall as he could, fighting the urge to look away from the stare of his 'father'.

"You cannot force me," His voice no longer quivered but the fear was dominating, "I will not take the mark of that lunatic Lord"

Funny, he'd always imagined this moment so different. In his daydreams he'd imagined no fear, only adrenaline as he calmly and forcefully looked his father in the eyes, spitting these exact words venomously at him before turning on his heel and strutting out.

Instead Draco stood so afraid he couldn't even shake, no venom in his voice, but definitely determination.

His fathers' face fell into a look of absolute disgust and horror.

"You're a Malfoy, so you damn well better start acting like one!"

He moved forward, the action clearly threatening, but before he could do anything the front door swung open eerily silent. The silence continued as a parade of dark hooded figures crossed the threshold, lead by the lunatic snake lord himself.

Draco's mind broke, his thoughts running wildly around, his heart screaming in his ears. The Death eaters formed a semi-circle in front of the two men; Voldermort stepped forward fluidly.

"Lucius, my ever faithful, join your family in the circle," Voldermort hissed happily.

_What a dolt_ thought Draco, _it's not a bloody circle_. It was probably the least important, least relevant thing to be thinking but I suppose one only controls their thoughts to a certain extent. Lucius stalked over to an empty space in the curved line, his expression now smug. Clearly he thought that faced with the Lord himself, Draco would be unable to refuse.

Voldermort then turned his big ugly snake face to Draco, eyeing him thoughtfully.

"Well then Draco, kneel before me and extend your left arm."

Draco didn't budge. Voldermort cocked his head curiously.

"Come now boy, I understand you must be nervous but my patience wears thin. Come here."

Draco tried to talk, he really did, but no sound could be forced from his throat, so instead he shook his head dismayed. Whispers shot through the followers. Voldermort turned to the one shaking in rage.

"Lucius my servant, what is the meaning of this? Are you to tell me you're son would refuse me?"

Lucius was simply livid, Draco was suddenly happy his mother had gone out, he didn't want he to be here for this. She would surely stick with Draco, and he couldn't be responsible for her pain, or worse, her death.

Lucius broke away from formation, charging at his son, blinded by rage.

"How dare you embarrass me like this you little whelp!"

A harsh blow to the face and Draco was sent sprawling. Another and another until Draco was on his knees, bloodied and bruised, looking up pathetically at his father. The snickers and jeers from the present company were barely audible over the bounding in his head.

"I'd rather see you die then continue to tarnish the Malfoy name!" His father spat harshly before drawing his wand, "Crucio!" He called hatefully.

Never had Draco experienced pain such as what he felt then. His screams were in vain, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't even think that they did no good. His body was on fire, on fire and being torn apart, chopped into pieces and whipped whilst burning. His eyes lolled back into his head and his screams finally ceased, his voice choking into silence. Then the pain stopped, but whether it was because the curse had ended or that Draco simply couldn't feel it anymore was unknown. Then his fathers' face filled his blurred vision.

_I wonder if this is how Potter sees without his glasses…_ In his state Draco was unable to focus his mind and listened helplessly as his thoughts strayed. Then his father was saying something, nothing that Draco could comprehend, but he watched mesmerised as the thin lips of his father formed what was undoubtedly a string of insults.

Then his father sheathed his wand in his cane once more, and Draco thought maybe it was over, that this was the punishment he'd be left with. He thought, maybe, just maybe, even though his father was a horrid person, he just wasn't able to kill his own son. But with one last sneer his father drove the end of his cane right into the center of Draco's chest, piercing his heart. He then pulled his cane back out and left without a second glance at Draco.

"Oh my GOD!" It was the first thing Draco had been able to hear in some time. It made sense that his mothers pained shriek would awaken his senses.

"What have you done!" She screamed accusingly as she rushed for her son. Draco didn't catch his fa- Lucius' response; I suppose his ears decided not to care what he had to say. All Draco knew was his mother was there; she was holding him, rocking him gently and sobbing. She healed what she could but there was nothing she or any other witch or wizard could do for his heart. She doubled over in agony, folding herself over her son.

"Draco! Oh god Draco…" she kept whispering his name, it was soothing, even if her sobs ripped at his already torn heart. Then she gasped.

"Draco!" But this time it wasn't like she was saying his name. He couldn't quite place what it was but in the next second his mother was calling for house elves. The elves levitated him as gently as possible and followed his mother out the door.

_No, no! This isn't right. If I'm to die I'd rather it in my home, with my mother! _He wanted to tell her that, to tell her it was ok, that he loved her, but his voice was incapable.

Draco flitted in and out of consciousness, watching in an odd dreamlike state as the scenery continued to change each time he woke. Then his mother was speaking again. Pleading.

"Please! You must help him! He's my only son! I can't lose him!" her voice had an edge of hysteria to it. Draco wanted to comfort her but he couldn't even see anymore.

"Speak your name." The demand startled Draco back to reality, it was dark and damp and hard; his mother was above him again, but this time not cradling him. Was she offering him? To what?

"Narcissa Black." She spoke calmer than before.

"Black you say?" There was that deep growling voice again. It made Draco scared to look over.

"The Black family are children of the Celts…" He seemed to be considering things.

"M-mother," Draco rasped weakly, "What's happening?"

"Shh, Draco darling, save your strength."

"Draco?" The voice sounded surprised, "Has your Celtic worship inspired such a name?"

Draco watched his mother nod solemnly.

"Of course. My family was always honoured the Celtic traditions, magic and legends of the Dragons."

Silence. Then –

"Turn your gaze to me Draco." The voice was gentle but left no room for argument. Obliging Draco turned his head slowly, and with help from his mother. His eyes absorbed the gigantic dragon before him.

"Dragons can talk?" he asked stupidly.

"I am the last of my kind," he answered plainly, "I will save you, Draco, but you must promise me, you must swear an oath to live by the old code. You must swear to me to live with a good heart and do all that you can to protect what's right."

Draco's head was spinning his vision darkening, his body felt heavy, but above all that, he could hear the dragons' words clear as day.

"I swear."

And that was all it took. Draco watched in horror as the dragon peeled back a scale near the center of his body at the base of his neck, revealing its still beating heart. He watched as the dragon proceeded to reach inside itself, tearing free a piece of its own heart. Then the horror really set in as he realised just what the dragon was doing. He lay there helpless as the dragon folded the piece of its heart into Draco's chest.

He felt instantly better, his heart strengthened. Then the dragon bent its neck low, and with a heavy sigh flames burst from its mouth welding the wound shut like it were metal. He tried to stay conscious but was powerless against his exhaustion.

Hours later when he finally woke he found he had been moved and his mother was in a tizzy.

"Draco, my son, you must make haste!" She told him as she noticed he had woken.

"Go to Severus, he will not turn you back," she read the apprehension in her sons face then added, "He is not what he pretends to be, though he knows not that I have realised it."

Draco felt a head ache settling in, this wasn't making any sense! Had the dragon been a dream? He stopped suddenly, had it? He peeled his bloodied shirt back a bit, gasping at the mark he found.

_Well that's attractive _he thought sarcastically, clicking his tongue in distaste. Nope, not a dream.

"Please Draco! Pay attention!" He focused on his mother, this really wasn't the time for wondering thoughts, "Go to Severus, I cannot take you and you cannot be found so you must walk. It's a fair distance but I know you can do it! You have to…" She trailed off sadly. It caught Draco's attention.

"Wait, what are you saying? You're not coming with me?" He didn't wait for an answer, he already knew he was right, "You're not going back to him are you!?" He cried out. His mother gave him a stern look.

"Shh, Draco. Now is not the time to lose your head! Yes I am going back, I must, I have been branded by the mark and so my destiny is decided. I cannot change that now… No matter how much I wish to…" She smiled at her son, who was gaping at her, "But I can do right by my life even if I have restrictions. I can do right by you. So please Draco, go to Severus, he will help you!"

Draco froze, not sure what he really wanted to do, not sure what he should do. He had made an oath to do what was right, but how was it possible when he couldn't even sort out what exactly was the right thing to do.

Finally after many minutes of debating with himself, he nodded silently, irked when his mother grinned at his decision. _How can she smile so big at me like that when I'm abandoning her?_

"Thank you Draco!" She whispered to him as he stalked off into the distance.

--------------------------------- END OF FLASH BACK -----------------------------------------

"I think I've lost my appetite," Draco announced after a rather profound silence. Severus forced himself to speak normally.

"Don't be ridiculous, you know better than I do how hungry you are and I know better than you do how much your body needs this food," Severus preached, "Now hurry up and eat."

Draco sighed but continued anyway. Silence fell once more between them.

"Draco," Severus began, not sure what he wanted to ask, "Why didn't you tell me you had no intention of joining The Dark Lords ranks?"

Draco shrugged making a noncommittal sound.

"Dunno really… I always thought you were bully for Voldy…"

"Yes, I do come off that way… An unfortunate part of playing spy."

Draco dropped his fork staring with large eyes at the man across from him.

"You're a spy? For who?" Draco almost shouted, then he grimaced, "Ok, dumb question."

Severus couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him.

"Yes, it was wasn't it?"

Draco just continued to down some sausage.

"Draco, I'd like to take you to him," He spoke calculatingly, "He'll know what to do, he can keep you safe." With this Draco looked up, something toiling behind his eyes, something unrecognisable.

"I don't want to 'stay safe'" he sneered, "I want to join forces. I'm going to honour the second chance I've been given in life at do something worth what I've been given. I'm going to set my mother free and I'll be damned if I don't watch my father die." Then he continued to eat like he'd said nothing at all. Severus watched him for a long time before speaking again.

"Alright, Draco. We'll go Sunday."

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

A/N: So… New story, I don't think anyone's done this yet… I've read quite a few stories and haven't found one in symmetry to this so I hope its something new for everyone, and I hope it's something you'll all enjoy.

I'd really appreciate reviews on this as it is new to me and I'm not sure how people will take it. Thank you for your time in reading my story!

Bye-Bye


	2. Chapter 2

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

"Ridiculous!" Snape hissed at the morning newspaper, flashing a venomous squinted glare at the offensive news.

"What's it?" Draco asked concerned at the unkempt rage of his godfather. The burning black coals that were Snapes eyes singed Draco as they darted to meet his gaze.

"Nothing," he muttered tersely, "Just some more nonsense." He paused to fold the paper under his arm and stood.

"Forgive me, Draco," his eyes melted as he spoke, almost as though he were really sincere, "I must go speak with Dumbledor."

Draco gaped at him.

"But you've only just come!" he whined despairingly, "I've been locked in this bloody house for weeks! The brief moments that you have spared to visit me are all that keeps me sane! You must stay!"

Snape sighed exasperatedly with a bored look in his eyes.

"But this is surprising, Draco! I'd no idea you'd become so affectionate of me."

Another rarity for Snape, a joke. Draco glared up at Severus, looking quite rightly like a pouting child.

"Spare me the dramatics Draco. Must I remind you every time? You're not prisoner to this house, you are guest, staying for your own protection, if you wish to leave no one is stopping you."

Draco said nothing, choosing instead to continue his childlike glaring.

"I'll be sure to stop by again within the next few days but there really is something I must speak to Dumbledor about."

With that he turned swiftly on his heel and trudged toward the fireplace. Draco turned his head obnoxiously, he would ignore Snape as he left, and that was that.

Once he knew Snape was gone, Draco let out a long sigh. It wasn't that he'd grown any sort of… Affection, Draco shuddered, for the man. It was merely the thought of being left to his self that frightened him. The thoughts and feelings that plagued him were never ending, an abysmal swirl of uncertainty. He had sworn to do what was right, but surely there would be several instances where he would have to make a decision between two things of which he would not know the right one. And when those situations arose, what was he to do? Could he even successfully honour his pact with the dragon, or was he doomed to failure, doomed to disappoint them both? Fear gripped his heart once more as his thoughts fell back into the hazy, never ending swirl of indecision.

He bathed in the hottest water he could summon, simmering in the sweltering heat. His muscles loosened almost instantly and he could not hold back the contented sigh as he let his body relax. There were only brief moments where his mind would leave him be and bathing was one of those times. Unfortunately, soon as he emerged from the water his thoughts would carry on as if there had been no intermission.

He sighed tiredly as he shrugged into a pair of white pyjamas. After enduring what he had with his father and the dragon, Draco had known his life was to change drastically, he just never figured siding with the light would be so boring, so suffocating. It had only been just over three weeks since he had gone with Severus to see the headmaster, but it felt like much longer. It had been decided that Draco would live within his second cousins house in Grimuald place. Not the most charming place, in fact, it seemed to rip the cheer right out of you.

The dark wood floor creaked eerily beneath him as he strode toward the fireplace of the upstairs sitting room. Draco let the heat warm his face as he stared unblinkingly into the twisting flames. He watched in a trance as the flames battled valiantly for dominance. Even such a small fire so irrevocably contained was truly wild at heart, snarling and snapping; cracking with each string of flame that whipped precariously through the air.

Another creak tainted the silence.

Draco tensed.

The creak had been to pronounced to have been the wind or the mere groaning of an old house, and Draco hadn't moved so there was no chance of his weight having created it. His hand itched to grip his wand, and he would've relieved that itch if it weren't for the voices he heard. He knew that voice… Granger. It had to be Granger. If Granger was here then that meant that Potter and the Weasleys wouldn't be too far off. His suspicions were confirmed seconds later as he heard the tenor of a deeper male voice, Weasley. Draco stood unsure, judging by the casualty of their attitudes none of them knew he was there. That could only mean trouble, he knew the instant they saw him standing there they would assume the worst, and most likely attack. Suppressing the urge to defend himself he angled his body toward the door, he could hear her just outside in the hallway. Granger was close. The doorknob made hushed scratching noises as Grangers hand clasped it, and began to turn it.

Dracos' whole body quivered with the effort to stay standing in that one spot. His whole being screamed at him to duck or run or hide. Something! Anything to avoid the string of hexes that were bound to be coming his way the second he was discovered. However, as Granger stepped into the doorway, as her eyes rested on Draco, the unexpected occurred.

"Gyaaaaaaa!"

Draco stared, confused, into the pale wide-eyed face of Granger as she screeched in pure horror and shock, but it wasn't the type of horror or shock that he had expected. She made no move for her wand, or to physically assault him, she just stood terrified. Her whole frame shook as her eerie wide-eyed staring continued. Draco was so shocked by her reaction that he forgot to listen for others and before he knew it there was thumping footsteps charging toward the doorway in which Granger stood.

"What is it? What's wrong Hermione?" Weasley whipped round to face the room and Draco, his wand drawn; Draco tensed this time sure of the hexes to come. However, Weasley's arm lowered as he also gaped unbelievingly at Draco.

Then of course Saint Potter made his appearance and by this time Draco was expecting the gaping stares of blank shock. Potter stepped cautiously into the room; Draco noted that he kept his wand drawn, clever boy. Draco smirked; drawing gasps from his audience, and was that relief on Potters face? Why the bloody hell was Potter stalking toward him like that?

"Alright there, Potter?" Draco had to bite his cheek to keep the usual spite from his voice.

Silence.

Had he honestly expected to receive an answer? Draco scoffed and waited, waited for whatever Potter was going to do. The tip of Potters wand dug into his ribs with two quick jabs.

"Ouch! Potter you bleeding idiot!"

"Bloody hell…" Weasley trailed off in a disturbed daze.

"He… He's real…" Granger whispered.

"Well spotted." At this point it was pretty much impossible to keep the dripping sarcasm from spilling out of his mouth with each word.

"But… But…" Granger sputtered, for once losing her cool intellectual form, "But you're dead!"

Draco stiffened.

"What sort of madness is that? Obviously I am far from dead." Draco winced, maybe not too far from dead…

"We've just come from… well, from your funeral." His eyes snapped attention to Potter. His funeral? Draco broke out in a boisterous laugh, edging along the borders of hysteric.

"So that's how he wants to play it?" He asked no one in particular as his outrageous laugh simmered to a chuckle, "And how, may I ask, did I die?"

"Drowned," was the simple one worded response from Potter as he shrugged. Draco sighed.

"How boring."

"Malfoy- "

"POTTER DON'T!"

All eyes trained themselves on the new figure stepping from the fireplace in a rupture of emerald flames.

"Aim your wand DOWN! NOW! Draco's not your enemy!"

Potter looked down curiously before realising he still had his wand directed at Draco's ribs. Whoops. He tucked his wand back into his pocket and chuckled nervously as he ruffled his hair in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

"Er… Sorry." He mumbled as he shuffled back toward Granger and Weasley.

"You shouldn't have to apologise Harry, it's just the ferret!" Weasley added helpfully.

"Err… Professor…" Granger mumbled, uncharacteristically, "What d'you mean he's not our enemy?"

"Yeah!" Weaselbee chimed in, "It's MALFOY."

Snapes' lip curled in repulsion as he forced his eyes to focus upon The Harry Potter Lackeys.

"I will explain everything in due time, first lets take this to the downstairs sitting room and wait for some reasonable adults." His sentence was spoken in a monosyllabic tone with a hint of displeasure.

Potter nodded, stupid git, as if Snapes demand had been a request, as if there had been an option in it. However, Granger hesitated, unmoving in the doorway and Weasley… Well Weasley has never been able to control himself.

"I don't think so!" He shouted senselessly, "Why should we let that prat wander around in our HEADQUARTERS! I don't think so! I don't trust him, the insufferable stuck up pure blooded poof!"

Draco cocked one finely manicured eyebrow in a mocking imitation of shock.

"Insufferable? Isn't that a bit of a big word for you?" Then Draco turned his attention upon Granger, "You shouldn't teach an idiot things he'll never understand, it just gives him false hope."

"Why you slimey gi-"

"Oh just shut up! As much as I hate you, don't be so stupid to think that all I ever want is to fight! If my only reason for coming here was to fight, I would've gotten here moments before you did rather than three weeks before."

"Three weeks? You've been here that long?"

"That's right, Granger, so there's no reason why I can't go with you to the downstairs sitting room, I've been there thousands of times before."

Weasleys' face was now rubescent.

"HE'S BEEN HERE THE WHOLE BLOODY TIME!"

"Yes, now, Weasley if you would move to allow us passage, we could continue to the Sitting room and discuss this further." Draco smirked; he could hear the unrestrained amusement in Severus' voice.

"Fine, but I've got my eye on you," he hissed, attempting a threatening whisper, and failing epically. Draco snorted.

"And you called me the poof!" He chastised, "Oh well, lets go then."

"Wha-? I didn't- MALFOY! Don't twist my words!" Weasley sputtered uselessly.

Through the silence that followed the group within the room distinguished the implausible. Potter, laughing. Potter laughing at Draco's joke. Potter laughing at his own best mate, because of Draco. The thought sent the strangest sensation through his body, vibrating within every cell in his body. Draco shook his head, _Good thing today is almost over_, he thought, _because it's a bloody weird ass day!_

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

A/N:

Sorry it took so long for me to update this one; I'm taking longer on this story than any other I've ever done because I want it to work out as nicely as possible. Also, I had computer problems for a long time there, and writers block for a bit too, and also high school is coming to an end for me, so I've got lots of assignments to do, lots of things to wrap up and college to prepare for. I'm not trying to condone my lateness, I merely wish to express the tiniest explanation. I hope you understand and aren't going to kill me! XD Again, this is still a really new story and I'd appreciate getting some reviews as I'm not sure how people will take this! Thanks for your time! And thank you to both, **Twilight Canvas** and **Funnyducky** for your reviews on the first chapter, though there were only two they still encouraged me so thank you very much!


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry it took this long for an update, to all you who've actually read this story. However it's also been so long that a lot of you may not even remember my story, so let me ask you to give it another shot, I will try not to disappoint with time delays again.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

"So Malfoy's been here for weeks? Snooping around our hideout?" Ron cried outraged at the indecency of it all.

"Yes," Snape hissed with a curl of disgust twisting his thin lips.

"Why!" Ron bellowed, "Why let him come here? This is the Headquarters for everything good and you led a Death Eater right through the front doors!"

Draco flinched at the accusation and averted his gaze, glaring heatedly at the left corner of the fireplace. Ron seethed in his chair; his fiery stare flickered between Snape and Malfoy.

Silence descended on the room like night fall along the plains, the only sound to break the silence was the tamed crackle of the fire.

Finally Hermione cleared her throat and she looked up at Draco with what she hoped was merely an inquisitive glance.

"You're..." she began slowly, cautiously, "You're not, are you?"

It wasn't really a question, it was an assumption. The eyes of the room drew to Hermione, watching, waiting, intent on what might unfold before them.

"Not what, Granger?" Draco snapped, speaking for the first time that evening. His voice was unnaturally calm, however still snarky, albeit only slightly.

Hermione's eyes swept the room calculatingly, "You're not a Death Eater, are you?" She inquired. Draco's eyes pinned her, the truth radiating from beneath his stony expression.

"Hermione!" Ron yelped, "Have you completely flipped your lid? Of course he's a Death Eater! Look at his family for Merlin sakes!"

That did it. Draco leapt from his chair, thrusting his body threateningly in the direction of the red haired muggle-lover.

"Say what you will of my father," He seethe through gritted teeth, "But I'll be damned if you cross my mother again!"

The pain of parting with his mother still seared within his every molecule. She had risked everything and endured many trials just so that he may live, and for what? For this? To sit around day after day, a completely useless lump in a decaying little hut? It had been something that was a constant pain to Draco, and to have the bloody fucking Weasel suggest any sort of insult toward the woman he now owed everything to – Well, that was one thing Draco would not stand for.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

Harry had sat silent, scrutinising the scene unfolding before him. He was waiting, watching and listening, patiently waiting for an entry point. However now it seemed waiting wouldn't be the smartest choice. He would have to intervene now and act as some sort of mediator, not that he was sure that it would work for Malfoy, considering their history that is.

"Ron," He said, grabbing the boys attention, "Think about it – Lucius Malfoy held a funeral for Malfoy... Why would he do that?"

Ron hesitated, but for only a moment before firing back.

"That way Malfoy can easily run round with all the other Death Eaters doing-... Evil things!"

"Wouldn't it make more sense that Malfoy would be sent back to school to attempt some sort of infiltration method rather than disappear all together?"

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. Did he dare cross the line? Was he bold enough to vocalize his presumption?

"You're not even marked, are you?"

The question stood alone, pronounced in the silence encompassing it. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fidgeting with the sleeve covering his left arm. Draco could feel the weight of many eyes upon him, demanding he admit it, or deny it, whichever would come first.

"Ron scoffed, "What? So desperate to be like 'daddy' that you'd lie about having The Mark? How pathetic!"

Draco punched the brick of the fireplace.

**CRACK.**

His knuckles couldn't take the strain, they crumpled beneath the pressure, retreating into his hand. Hermione gasped at the blood now seeping from the fist of Draco's left arm.

Then, slowly, Draco moved his left arm in front of him, displaying it for all to see. He ripped back the sleeve exposing his fair skinned forearm, barren of any marks.

"I have no intentions of ever being like that 'man'! Don't insult me by comparison!" He spat with more venom than he had ever before.

Ron rose defiantly, an insult running along his tongue; however Hermione jumped up and placed herself hastily between Ron and Draco.

"Okay! Okay! Everybody just calm down!" She shouted hurriedly.

"Ron," she addressed him directly, "Calm down!"

Ron glared broodingly at Hermione, nevertheless he paused to listen.

"Clearly there are some details we have not yet been made privy to," she paused to glance at Draco, "And perhaps we never will be... Something's are none of our business. The important thing is that we calm down and talk about this rationally."

Ron and Draco still stood, their stares burning passed Hermione directly at one another.

"Hermione is right. Please everyone just sit down. Let's discuss this properly." Harry sighed, his breath a tired whisper sneaking passed his lips. It didn't matter that he didn't much care for Malfoy, the bickering had to stop if they were ever going to make any sense of what was happening. During his years with Dumbledore, Harry had learned quite well that his intentions weren't always the clearest, but they usually turned out alright in the end. Hermione looked relieved.

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione spoke softly, relaxing as the two boys began to return to their seats.

"Okay. I'm sorry," Ron grunted, "I lost my head for a moment."

_Lost your head?_ Draco thought. _How could you ever possibly lose something such a bright filthy orange colour? _Draco smirked and sat up straighter.

"If we're all done with our emotional, idiotic outbursts," Snape droned in irritation. He paused for only a moment, ensuring he had the attention of everyone.

"Draco is of no one's concern; Dumbledore and I have both spoken for Draco. If that isn't good enough for you then look at me closely, listen well to me and believe me when I say that he is here to stay; he will be loyal perhaps not friendly but he will fight well and work hard."

Silence once again crept into the room following Snape's proclamation. Severus wondered if perhaps he has said too much...

"I'll leave you children to yourselves as I tend to more pressing matters," He turned to leave then, "Play nice."

And with a green burst of flame he was gone.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

"Uh... So how about some tea? I could whip some up really quickly if you'd like," it was a generalised question but she looked to Draco as she spoke.

_Damn this whole thing!_ Draco thought. _How dare she look at me like? Like I require her sympathy, like I'm some damn victim. Bugger this!_

Draco snorted a her, standing tall and staring down at her in distaste.

"As if I would sit around with you lot sharing tea and biscuits! Just because I am here and not a Death Eater, does not mean that my opinion of you all has changed any."

He sauntered to the staircase with his usual swagger and proceeded to climb the stairs at a casual pase.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

Once in his private quarters Draco stripped off his shirt with a sigh and fell none too gracefully onto his pathetic excuse for a bed.

_I mustn't be so callous_, he thought. _I'm lucky that I am even allowed to be here! I no longer have any right to complain of quality of either furniture or company_. He chastised himself over and over though he knew his attitude toward them wouldn't change in the slightest, at least, not right away... And why would it? He'd treated them the exact same and had been treated the exact same by them for six years. Things were hardly going to change in one night. They weren't going to change after one conversation, which Weasley and he had so aptly demonstrated just now.

In fact, he doubted things would change any time soon, even after several more conversations. This was something that would take time; perhaps more time than the summer had to offer.

His thoughts paraded on and on until finally, he succumbed to the numbness of unconsciousness, blissfully sighing as he slipped away.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

"What do you think of all of this?" Hermione inquired as she picked up her tea cup to take a sip.

"I don't know..." Harry murmured in response.

Ron shook his head and groaned, "None of this makes any sense. Why'd Malfoy change sides? He seemed perfectly content being a right ass hole. What changed?"

"Well that's the thing, isn't it?" Hermione burst excitedly. She stared with wild eyes at the other two, hoping they would understand, or at least catch on.

"Nope. Sorry. I don't get it," Ron half joked.

Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"Malfoy!" She insisted as if it would clear everything up.

Harry and Ron groaned.

"Yeah, you're going to have to spell it out to us," Harry told her.

Hermione sighed again before continuing.

"Perhaps it was all an act! We've all seen Malfoy's father abuse him both physically and emotionally. Maybe to survive in that environment, Malfoy simply took on the roll!" She mused excitedly, "You hear about it all the time with abusive parents!"

"And even if he is really just an ass, maybe he's just not evil. There is a huge difference between being an ass and being evil," She continued.

"Or maybe there is another reason behind everything..." Harry trailed off after catching on, "Maybe he didn't change sides so much as he's just finally showing his true self."

Hermione nodded solemnly.

"One thing is for sure though," she paused for effect, "There is something going on here, involving Malfoy, that we don't understand or even know about!"

The trio contemplated this new information for a moment.

"I dunno. I still think he's just an ass hole."

"Ron!" Hermioned giggled, smacking the kids shoulder.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

The morning broke a top the hills, spilling down their jagged slopes and washing over the land. The Sun peaked through Draco's window, gently kissing his face in an attempt to rouse him.

He groaned in protest, gripping the sheets and pulling them over his head. He almost yelped in surprise at the pain he didn't feel from his left hand. Draco sat up, wincing at the radiant glow of sunrise. Once his eyes adjusted he examined his fist hesitantly.

There were no marks, no blood, cuts or bruises. No pain. Nothing. He was certain that no healing spells had been performed, yet his hand looked and felt as though nothing had happened.

Was it possible that this was the power of his new found Dragon Heart? Could the piece of Dragon Heart beating within his breast have leaked power to him? If so, had it healed his hand? Had it affected anything else? What else might it enabled him to do?

So many questions to ponder. How could it be only now that he was beginning to wonder about what had happened to him; about this Dragon Heart?

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~


	4. Chapter 4

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

The week proceeded tensely between the inhabitants of Number 4 Grimuald Place. Silence was a constant companion; at least, it was when Draco was around. It suited Draco just fine; he didn't much care to enter into any sort of conversation with the rest of them. They stared at him funny, whispered when he was near and Granger kept giving him these sidelong glances brimming with sympathy. On the other hand, Draco had spent plenty time sitting alone and the silence now agitated him, especially because now there actually was someone he could converse with.

Another fine sunny day and Draco found himself sitting on the bench along the window, basking in the sunlight. His mind wandered endlessly, searching desperately for an escape from his grim reality, anything would suffice so long as he didn't have to contemplate his new position, his recently acquired allies, or his new-found heart.

He could hear laughter rising gallantly up the stairs. He scoffed angrily. _Fine, let them have their merriment, I don't need anyone. _

They were to relocate to The Burrow, Dumbledore was there right now, and implicating defensive spells so that it would be safe. Draco wasn't fond of the idea of being surrounded by the family he had taken such joy in tormenting; however he was enjoying the thought of being able to step outside, breathe some fresh air, lay in the grass, and wander aimlessly through the night when terror stole his sleep.

Perhaps then he could find some solace within the boundaries of this new existence.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

The Burrow was nothing like Draco had pictured... It was worse. A big misshapen tower of old woods, cracking paint and demented windows. With a curl of his lip Draco hastened up the steps behind the rest, secluded. The smell that assaulted his senses was not what he had anticipated. The house smelled of delicious food, it made his mouth water just to sniffle. It felt more like home than any other place he had been as of late.

A still form to his side caught his eye and when he turned to acknowledge the figure he found Potter staring oddly back at him. Potter blinked and stalked off, trudging up the winding, rickety staircase.

"Draco!" A voice welcomed, "Let me show you to your room, dear."

"Yes, thank you." Draco muttered self-consciously.

Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly and motioned for him to follow her up the stairs. He conceded and fell into step behind her, tenderly testing each step before continuing. She led him almost to the top and then turned left onto a small platform with-holding only two doors. She took him through the closest door.

"I'm afraid this room hasn't been used in quite some time," She laughed apologetically.

The room was filthy, absolutely coated in dust and mildew, the air was stale and the bed was ancient. With a wave of her wand the room was tidy and orderly, however the smell and the quality of furniture remained unchanged.

"Well there we are," Mrs. Weasley beamed, "Not perfect but it'll do. Dinner will be ready soon so why don't you just settle in and come down stairs, have a bite to eat. You're so skinny!"

Draco sized her up as she spoke, this woman, the mother of the children he so cruelly judged, was being so loving and welcoming. As if she read his mind Mrs. Weasley turned and caught him up in her arms, a kind embrace. She hugged him dearly, as though he might disappear if she didn't hold on; she hugged him carefully, as though he might break at the touch of a feather.

"Thank you." Was all that managed to break through the shock and unease. It flew up his throat without warning, then tumble clumsily down his lips, quickly fading into silence.

"No need!" She dismissed him easily, "I can't leave a child in need and I know that things are rough between everyone else. I know you've bullied my children repeatedly."

Draco flinched at the acknowledgement, waiting for the axe to drop.

"I was really shocked myself when Dumbledore informed me that you would me accompanying the others, it took me quite a while to adjust however..." Mrs. Weasley stopped herself and let her voice drop off awkwardly. She stared at him funny...

"You know, don't you?" Not a question. A statement.

Mrs. Weasley looked uncomfortable for a moment; she wasn't supposed to let Draco know that she knew of his predicament. She turned wordlessly for the door.

"About 10 minutes and dinner will be ready, so join us when you're settled." And with a smile she exited, swiftly descending the rickety staircase.

Draco stood stock still, contemplating what had just occurred, unsure of whether or not he was bothered by her knowing. However, after a short moment of thought he decided that it was her right to know why the strange, cruel boy was to be living in her home. Why she would have to feed and shelter the boy who had been so ruthless toward her family. He turned to his bag, a small simple bag that Snape had purchased and filled with a small collection of clothing for him. He began to empty its contents into the tiny dresser he had been entrusted with.

In the silence of his room shuffling could be heard coming from the room beside him and he became aware of the presence of another on this floor. He waited in nerve-wracking hush allowing whoever it was to head downstairs first. He didn't want anyone within the household knowing just which floor he was residing on; lest they feel it they're duty to punish him for crimes former.

When he was sure that no one was within the vicinity he began his descent, trudging solemnly toward the lively dining area. Noise assaulted him instantaneously upon arriving on the first floor; pushing its way through his brooding thoughts and making home in his mind. With a deep breath he entered the Dining Room and seated himself two seats away from everyone else, the conversation did not falter as he expected, as it usually did when he was present.

Mrs. Weasley presented him with a plate, smiled sweetly at him then gestured to the food occupying the center of the table; right in the middle of everyone else. He gulped, mulling over the food. Normally Draco would've simply dismissed his hunger in favor of remaining obscured, however at this current moment his hunger cried to him like a living creature, begging to be sated.

A hand grabbed at his plate, taking it from its place in front of him. He looked behind him, to the source of the hand, and found Potter holding his plate as well as his own plate. Potter hesitantly placed his plate, the plate with mounds of food on it, in front of Draco and retreated back to his place with his friends. Draco stared in shock at the boy, watching as he now filled Draco's previous plate with food to have for himself.

Draco turned to stare down at the food before him, grateful for the ease in which he acquired it, though unsure of how to show such appreciation, especially to a boy that he still wasn't overly fond of.

When dinner was done, for Draco anyhow, he quickly retired to his bedroom. He enjoyed the fresh smell of the evening air mixed with the scent of the grass that now inhabited his room. He had left the window open purely for this reason, purely to rid his room of the dusty scent it had once possessed. Draco dressed in his night clothes then headed for the window, leaning on the window sill to hang his head in the night. He stood there for quite some time, basking in the peace of the night, the cold air drifting through his hair and the symphony of the evening.

Why was Potter acting in such a manner? Relieved at the news of his survival, laughter at the jokes he once would have found aggravating; Potter was being almost kind to Draco and it unnerved him. Was there an ulterior motive to Potters actions?

Draco had not noticed the footsteps leading up to his floor or the door opening and closing to the room beside his, however he now noted the muffled voices coming from beside him. He closed the window and pressed himself against the wall, listening for what might be said. Draco found he was unable to understand the dialogue that was being spoken; he desperately wished he could hear better and suddenly, he could.

"...Was very kind of you, Harry." Granger.

"It was unnecessary mate," Weasley, "Malfoy doesn't deserve that sort of generosity, and he is a right git. He could've gotten his own food."

"Ronald! How would you feel if you were in a house you had never once been in before surrounded by people that you suspect must hate you?" Granger protested in scorn.

Draco shuttered in distaste at the accuracy in which Granger understood him.

"You wouldn't want to jump into the middle of a crowd for food either!" She continued angrily, "I'm tired of your hostility, honestly! I understand disliking him, I don't like him either, but what did you want? Did you want him to starve to death?" She took a deep breath to calm herself, "We must remember that for whatever reason, Malfoy is now on our side."

Silence.

"Hermione, you're too nice. I get what you're saying, but I can't just forgive him like that. I still hate him, and all I can think is 'why is he so suddenly on our side now? Is it a trick?' things like that." Weasley complained in what Draco considered to be his most reasonable voice.

Granger sighed in defeat, "I know. It's just too weird! It bothers me because it's not even something that I can research and it's not like he's just going to open up and tell us."

"Especially if it is a trick," Weasley added for good measure.

There was a long pause in the conversation.

"What do you think of all of it, Harry?" Granger questioned.

Draco tensed; this was the very thing he had been asking himself for weeks now. He may very well receive his answer now.

"I don't know..." Potter mumbled, "I mean, I definitely didn't want him to be dead, he may be rude but he doesn't deserve to die. So I guess I'm relieved that he is at least alive..." Potter trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts Draco assumed.

"I was so shocked and relieved that he was alive that it was actually nice to hear him make fun of us." Potter chuckled at himself, "I still don't like the guy but... I think he's trying to change. I think he's here out of honesty and I don't know... I want to help him."

"That's so nice of you! I actually agree. I still don't like him either but I really want to help." Granger exclaimed happily, "I just wish we could talk to him on a more even level and find out what's happened, as clearly, something has happened."

Draco heard no more of the conversation. His head was spinning and he was feeling nauseous. He couldn't believe what he had just over heard. They were talking as though they cared for him! What a sick joke. They didn't care for him, they didn't want to talk with him, and if they had they would've already been trying. Thousands of thoughts danced wildly through his mind, trampling anything else out, and although he was confused, shocked and somewhat angry, a small part of him, in the farthest recesses of his mind told him that it was no joke. They were sincere in their desire to help.


	5. Chapter 5

The night proceeded awkwardly for Draco; he wasn't sure how he was meant to feel. Draco had over-heard what was not meant for him to overhear, and now he was plagued to forever remember it. He had immediately dismissed their claims as lies but as he contemplated them his resolve began to waver. Were they truly insincere, or was it Draco's cynicism that obliged him to feel that way?

Draco sat in darkness for a lengthy period, no longer contemplating, no longer thinking, no longer feeling. It was the best thing that had happened to him as of late. To be purged of everything. All that pained him, unnerved him. He sat atop his bed with his legs tucked into his chest; aside from the slight movement from his breath he was motionless.

A statue frozen within his own indifference.

And finally the night engulfed him, the darkness filling his everything as he slipped from reality.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

"BREAKFAST!" The voice of Molly Weasley echoed through the halls and rooms of The Burrow, waking everyone instantly.

Draco woke with a start before fully acknowledging what had roused him. Clumsily he stumbled from his bed and began to dress. What had happened to him last night? Draco had never experienced such a thing. It felt as though he had shed a skin that had cloaked him for far too long. A skin that he had long since out grown.

Draco made his bed silently, listening for Potter, waiting for him to hurry up and get downstairs. He was forced to wait a good 15-20 minutes before Potter finally trotted down the staircase. With a sigh Draco readied himself and trudged solemnly down.

Again noise encompassed him as the table was again full of life, and again the food was centered amongst a crowd. Unlike previously, a plate was already set out for Draco, food already blanketing its surface. He silently thanked whoever had so generously dished him breakfast and settled himself for the awkward meal. For the first time he was actually glad for the noise, the conversation. It soothed him in a way he didn't think would have been possible; the rambunctious chatter of this wild family made him feel like he was part of something again.

Draco smiled to himself, a small smile, barely noticeable on his face. He knew now that he could begin again, that he could start over as a him that he had never dared to be. Draco had been an ass, he had been downright mean, cruel even. However, Draco had never been evil. In fact, he had faced his fear, he had literally stared his fear in the face and had denied it. Twice in one afternoon. Draco had almost bled to his untimely demise, brutalized in his own home. He had seen hell, felt it with every fiber of his being and rather than let it destroy him, unravel him, rather than let it consume him, he had persevered. He had taken pain and converted it into strength, a strength that had allowed him to change entirely who he was.

Draco had endured and grown from it. He was no longer the boy that this family hated; he was the man who had come to them hoping to make a difference, hoping to help. He no longer thought of himself as a victim, he would no longer allow those memories to haunt him. Surely he couldn't control what he might dream of in the dark of the night, but those shadows would no longer hunt him, no longer stalk him in the light of day.

Draco felt as if he had reached some profound epiphany, and perhaps that's exactly what it was, though he was not so foolish as to believe that this one awakening could change anything. All it would do for him was within him, it would change only him, his perspective but that was enough. Draco started as he realized that he was enough, that all that mattered was him, who he was and what he planned to do to make a difference. He had never felt like 'enough' Draco had always felt as though he were scrounging, desperately scraping at the chance to be enough yet always falling short.

The young man had finally come in.

There was work to be done now of course, if he was to be a new man, the kind of man that he had sworn to be, the man he wanted to be, he couldn't simply become that man. There was no spell that could transform him. Draco would have to change himself step by step, even baby steps if that's what was necessary.

As far as he could tell, the first few steps had already been completed. He had mourned, he had pouted and hid, he had been scared and rightly so. Then he had wondered. He had sat in the darkness and willingly remained, and then he had trudged through that darkness. He had risen and allowed himself to let go; now he could move on. Now he had to recreate himself, not only in his own eyes but in their eyes.

The thought provoked him to look, to listen and to watch.

"We should play some quidditch today! It's fabulous out, the perfect day for a match!" Ginny exclaimed.

Ron snorted as he attempted to swallow a large mouthful.

"We have an uneven number of players, unless Hermione is going to play," He said as he managed to devour the mouthful, "And you know that's not bloody likely!"

Hermione shot daggers at him over her glass of orange juice.

"That's nothing against me just because I would rather curl up in the grass with a book than rough housing in a sport."

It was nice, Draco thought, to think of them by their first names. He knew enough to know that he was far from being able to call them by those names and he didn't figure he was ready to anyway, however, it was nice. Draco stared at Potter for a moment. That was one name he would have troubles getting over. The boy was such a mystery, he had been so eager to fight with Draco during school yet he seemed to be the first to accept Draco, and so easily too! He had displayed kindness to Draco whilst everyone else had remained suspicious. Even now the boy confused him. Here his friends were, excitedly babbling through the morning, and aside from nods and smiles, Potter contributed nothing to the conversation.

"Besides," Hermione's voice broke Draco's thoughts, "Malfoy could play and then you would have even numbers."

Draco's heart thudded to a halt in his chest. _Good Lord!_ He thought horrified. He knew that Hermione was only trying to involve him but the suggestion was sudden and in Draco's opinion, too soon.

There it was again, that accursed silence. Draco stared hard at his plate, damning the silence, damning the suggestion. He wanted to lash out, he wanted to tell her to mind her own business, yet at the same time he wanted to be a part of it all.

"Malfoy?" Ginny squeaked almost inaudibly.

"Malfoy!?" Ron echoed.

"Malfoy." Hermione ascertained. She paused and then, "We all know he enjoys the sport, in fact he's rather good at it. He's probably bored all day anyhow."

"That's true," Potter spoke suddenly, "It might be nice to try doing something all of us together, we're on the same side, right?"

It wasn't really a question, or rather, it was a rhetorical question.

"Exactly," Hermione answered, "Then I can be left to my books and you don't all have to be bored."

Draco's face must've been red, it sure felt warm! Potter had actually spoke for him, Potter had actually accepted Hermione's offer of using Draco in their game.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

Harry watched Malfoy in the silence that followed Hermione's remark, he watched as Malfoys eyes became fixated on his plate and Harry almost seemed to revel in the crimson blush the crawled from beneath Malfoys shirt and into his hair line. Malfoy always acted so superior, it was almost a relief to discover that he still displayed human attributes; Malfoy was actually embarrassed! Harry paused, perhaps Malfoy was also scared. Harry had spent time deliberating how it must feel to be Malfoy right now, to be in his position; he had often wondered what had changed in Malfoy that he had shown up at Grimmuald place.

Malfoy was such a mystery; Harry couldn't seem to figure him out, however he was awfully curious. Perhaps that's why he did it, why he had been relieved to find that Malfoys death was a lie, why he had dished Malfoy breakfast this morning, why he accepted Hermiones offer of Malfoy joining their game. Could curiosity push a man so far? Could his curiosity really be fuelling his need to better acquaint himself with Malfoy? Harry smiled to himself, not entirely. There was a part of him, regardless of how minimal, that had always acknowledged that Malfoy wasn't evil, that Malfoy was merely a poor boy trapped in a life he did not want.

Harry had been the same way, trapped with the Dursleys. He had wondered many times if he should give up and be what they wanted him to be, but no matter how hard he had tried on occasion, he still couldn't be what they desired. However, the Durselys weren't his real parents, not the family he was meant for and that had always stabilized him, reassured him. Malfoy hadn't had that luxury, he had faced his father's disproval, his father's expectations, his father's beatings, and known that it was all for him. Malfoy had faced it all knowing that this was his family, his true family, not to mention the fact that the Dursleys had never been as abusive as Malfoy's father had been, perhaps that was enough to break a person.

It was only recently (Malfoy's sudden debut into the fold) that Harry had really begun to think about these things, to scrutinize that boy named Draco Malfoy, and the more he thought about it, the more it had intrigued him, the more it had upset him.

Draco Malfoy, the mystery novel of Harry Potters life.

It occurred to Harry that aside from Hermione no one had spoke up about the quidditch match. He looked to Ron who was staring at him disbelieving. Harry shot him a look that said 'c'mon mate, just give it a shot!'

Ron answered that look with one of his own that said 'It's MALFOY'

Harry chuckled silently to himself then stared at Ron, ever the condescending look in his eyes. With a raise of his eyebrows Harry reminded Ron that they had agreed to at least try to involve Malfoy, to at least give him a chance.

"Yeah I s'pose that would work just fine," Ron sighed, conceding.

Ginny gaped at him, then at Harry, then back to Ron.

"What d'you say Malfoy?" Ron addressed him, even made eye contact, which Harry noticed maybe Malfoy cast his eyes down, "Up for a game?"

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

He had no idea how it had happened, one minute they were at the breakfast table joking and laughing, inviting. The next minute Draco was suited up with a broom in his hand.

"You've got to be kidding me," Draco mumbled under his breath.

"Alright, these are the teams," Ron began, "Fred, Harry and me on one team, then Ginny, George and Malfoy."

Dracos' breath hitched as he snuck a look at George. The boy shrugged with a grin that anticipated the event before him. Draco was bewildered at the knowledge that George didn't care about being on his team. Ginny however looked rather perturbed.

"I don't want to be on Georges team!" She whined.

Though everyone present knew that really she meant she didn't want to be on Dracos team. Draco stiffened; what to do? Should he surrender and head in?

Potter gave Ginny a look, Draco wasn't sure what the look was meant to be but he thought perhaps Potter had wrangled his friends into a round of sympathy for the would be death eater.

"Okay then," Potter smirked, "I'll take George and Draco. Ron you can have Fred and Ginny."

Draco gasped, just how far would Potter go to please his need to help others? Draco considered the fact that Potters apparent need to help him might ostracize him.

If Ginny had looked perturbed before, well now she looked downright miserable, not to mention shocked.

"Aww! But I don't want Ron on my team!" Fred whined jokingly.

"Oi! And who exactly said I wanted you on my team?" Ron prodded back.

Draco actually felt himself choke up. Here they were, inviting him, involving him, and then making fun of one of their own to ease to burden on Draco. How could he have pigeon holed these people so wrong? He thought he knew them, but they were so much more than he had ever imagined.

It hit Draco hard, the realization. How kind they were, to accept him like that, to try so hard to push past the grudges they must've held for him. It also upset him to see just how far he had to go until he could truly be one of them.

Draco spoiled in his turmoil for a few moments more as the pretend argument continued, and then he noticed Potter. Potter was watching him studiously. Draco looked up at him, instinctively challenging him, and Potter merely smiled back at him.

"Game on then!" Ron hollered.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

The game had been glorious. Draco had scuffled and messed up, only to receive encouragement, not only from his own team but the opposite team too. Even Ginny had eventually cheered him on. He felt as though a bond had begun, thin as it was; though it left him uneasy to think that he owed it to Potter.

"Good game," the voice startled Draco from his reprieve.

He looked up startled and found the be-freckled face of Ronald Weasley staring back at him.

"Yeah," Draco mumbled in return. He expected Ron to wonder off and find some more preferential company, instead the boy plopped himself down on the seat across from Draco.

"You play much better," Ron began, "When away from all the stress."

Draco felt the heat of his anger begin to broil within, how dare The Weasel say anything like that to him? As if he knew what Draco felt.

"When I first started playing," Ron continued, "I played horribly! I thought for sure that there was no way I would get on the team, and even after that, at practice and especially at games, I kept messing up."

Dracos' rage subsided almost as quickly as it had begun to burn.

"I think it's because I tried so hard to be perfect that I messed up so much."

Draco could understand that, he had thought much the same.

"Harry's good for that. He always cheered me up. Sometimes I figure he's got a 'helping people' complex," Ron laughed.

Draco snorted, "I could see that," He agreed.

Ron fixed him with a look, something different than what Draco had ever seen on that boys face.

"I also figure that you must be very uncomfortable," Ron said suddenly serious.

Draco gulped.

"You must figure that because of how mean you were to all of us for all those years, that we probably hate you," He continued steadily, "And you're right."

Draco gawked at Ron, dismayed.

Ron sighed heavily, "At least partially," He paused, "We did hate you, we have hated you for many years. However, you see, there's this whole 'second chances' thing," Ron cloaked the words 'second chances' in quotations using his fingers, while smiling lopsidedly at Draco.

"It's nice to see that you relaxed enough to enjoy the game," and with that Ron rose from his chair, stretched and with a short nod and a 'see ya' left.

Draco sat stiffened for several moments before swiftly rising to his feet also and exiting the room. He headed straight to his bedroom, no longer caring who should see where he was dwelling. He locked the door behind him and sank to the floor.

Hermione and Potter had already made it obvious that they were attempting the 'second chance' thing as Ron had put it, but he had not expected the fiery and obnoxious red head to do such a thing, at least, not this soon, with so little reason.

Draco felt his eyes begin to sear in their sockets. Gritting his teeth he shook his head and willed himself to stop the onslaught.

_Only the weak shed tears, Draco._

The sutras' of his father often played automatically in his mind. It actually surprised him that it came so honestly to him, to force himself into his fathers' ideals. It wouldn't have surprised him before, but now that his father had done- what he had done… Draco didn't think it would affect him any longer, though he supposed that it was only natural after years of using it as a reflex. Although he had hoped his epiphany would've stamped it out.

Unfortunately that was not the case.

"Great," Draco growled to himself. One more thing he was going to have to fix.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

A/N : I know it has been an atrociously long wait and I apologize. I really have no good excuse except to say that unfortunately I had a bout of writers block. I kept meaning to write more, I even sat staring at the screen for hours, but nothing came to me. I had no ideas and then I had too many. I couldn't decide where to take my story or how to get it there. So today I sat down and it just started coming out and I know this chapter isn't super exciting but I hope it was enjoyable. I have more coming to you and soon, I swear it. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Looking at it from the outside it would appear as if nothing had changed, but that was only to the casual observer.

It seemed to Draco that much had changed. Conversation went on was always, laughter, daily routines all much the same as before; with the exception of the occasional awkward morning greeting to Draco and the frequent nods and acknowledgements. These changes were small, insignificant even, however regardless of how mundane these differences were they meant that somehow – in some small way – the balance had shifted. The balance of life was a precarious thing, delicate. If the balance had shifted then wasn't it reasonable to wonder if it might crumble? The tiniest rift could change everything and possibly destroy the way things had settled, dooming them all to the discomfort it was sure to bring.

Although, at the same time Draco wondered that maybe he was only so pessimistic about these changes because he was worried about what it might mean for him. How was he to know his place or how to behave if the balance decided to transform? What would it transform into? Would there still even be a place for him? He tried not to dwell on it, choosing instead to focus on his heart.

Was it merely taking the place of his old damaged heart, or was it also doing something to him on a magical level? It had healed his hand, had it not? If it could heal his hand without him so much as thinking a healing spell, what else could it do? What else would it do? Perhaps it was tampering with his magic level, which was a reasonable assumption considering what had been going on. His magic had never eased his senses into heightened states before, but since the new heart he had noticed more over that he could hear better when he wished it, much as he had the night he had eavesdropped on Potters conversation. Perhaps it was time to try experimenting with the notion.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

The feather sat serenely atop the decrepit wood floor, innocently still. Draco had never had much luck with wand less magic; it had always been a great embarrassment to his father that Granger happened to be better at it than him. Draco grimaced distastefully at the memory.

Shaking his head he forced himself to concentrate.

_Wingadrium Leviousa_

He thought with his entire mite, willing the feather to lift. A bead of sweat built above the far left corner of his brow, swiftly gliding along his face as its weight became too heavy to cling. His eyes began to burn with the desire to close, the desire to moisten themselves rather than continue to stare and dry painfully.

"Damn!" He hissed through tight lips.

Even with the heart of a Dragon living beneath his breast he was an utter failure.

_Stupid feather! Stupid wand less magic! Why can't you just bloody well FLOAT!_

His thoughts roared with ferocity he hadn't acknowledge himself capable of.

_I said- WINGADRIUM LEVIOUSA!_

Draco blinked in rapid succession attempting to ease the ache that tormented his thirsty eyes. All at once water consumed his vision as he felt his eyes begin to settle, satiated for the moment.

When his eyes returned to a somewhat normal state and his vision cleared, Draco sat in stunned hush. Had he wished so badly that he had tricked himself? How could the feather be floating calmly within the air? His concentration had been broken, his eye contact nonexistent, but there it sat atop nothing.

"Interesting," Draco murmured to himself.

Had his hunch been correct? Assuming that he had been correct Draco began to ponder the details of his little experiment. When he had tried doing it by the book he had been unable to complete the task, however, when he had allowed his emotions a moment he had succeeded without even so much as trying let alone any actual effort.

This new heart was quite fantastic, that is, if one was to forget the hideous scar that remained, marring his once seemingly perfect complexion. Never the less, there was a lot of use to be found in his discovery.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

Draco spent several days secluded to his bedroom, testing and contemplating. He had discovered that it was when he was being honest with himself, when he allowed his emotions to show for what they really were, that prompted his new power to reveal itself. He sat back with a smug grin painted on his tired face. If his father could see him now what would he say? Could he still look down on Draco with that condescending shake of his head and 'tut' of his voice?

He probably could.

Draco shrugged; his life wasn't about trying to impress his father anymore. He still had troubles allowing his emotions to show, what with his father teaching him from day one to never reveal any hint of true emotion; he still had trouble trying to relate to others or let go of his snobbish superiority issue. Fortunately he had begun to move on from that. Although his life was still driven by his father, but now it was driven by hatred and revenge so cold and heavy it had created an uncomfortable lump within his gullet. Baby steps, thought Draco callously; he could do it eventually.

A noise! Draco stiffened, what had grumbled with such a low voice? It had been close, it had been quiet but it had definitely been there. Hadn't it?

A boisterous laugh bubble from the depths of his throat pouring from his lips and transforming into an embarrassed chortle.

What kind of person was frightened and confused by the sound of their own stomach growling?

It struck Draco rather suddenly that he hadn't actually been out of his room aside from the need to use the restroom. He had forgone all meals or human pleasures in favour of his little discoveries.

Draco rubbed his stomach tenderly and rose for his place. He had familiarized himself with a new alcove to his powers and though he was far from knowing all that there was to know, he was a few steps closer. Baby steps he reminded himself.

It had taken Draco two or three times longer than usual to descend the stair case, he had tip-toed and eased himself down. Confining himself to the solitude of his room had helped immensely with his personal achievements, however he now felt rather awkward, as if this was once again his first day here.

Finally he rounded the corner into the kitchen; it was roughly noon so he had expected to find the Weasleys, Granger and Potter decorating the room, the table covered in food, what they were eating and what remained. Much to his surprise the kitchen was quite amazingly abandoned.

Draco poked around for a few minutes, making quite sure that no one was actually present. When he found, to his intense pleasure, that he was alone he set in on finding something to eat. He realized suddenly that he didn't actually know how to make anything the muggle way, which was how Mrs. Weasley made her meals.

He stood there, staring into the fridge, absolutely dumbfounded, what would he eat? Eventually he decided to surrender and with that he made up a couple quick sandwiches, wolfed them down and washed his mess.

Draco stood in comfortable silence for a few moments as he tried to decide what to do next. He was torn between two choices: He could retreat once more to his room, the room he had spent damn near 74 consecutive hours in OR he could enjoy this rare occasion and relax in the sitting room or perhaps the garden. The latter was more tempting if he was being honest, however if he chose to take advantage of this rarity it was also possible that he would get caught in an awkward situation as everyone could be back at any time.

Draco shook his head violently, this opportunity would not come along often if ever again, it would be foolish to pass it by; with that decision made Draco sauntered to the sitting room and dropped himself unceremoniously onto the sofa.

He listened delightedly to the soft song of the birds and the soothing orchestra of the world. The day was mild; a spot of sun no clouds though just a dash chilly. The breeze from the window played across his face joyously, teasing his hair as it danced.

Draco felt a smile forming on his lips, it had been a good choice to use this cha-

His eyelids blew back, his body alert and tensed. He had heard a noise, and this time it had not been his stomach!

When Dracos eyes focused he felt his stomach flip.

Potter.

Staring at him.

Potter was here!

Potter had been here the whole time…

And now Potter was standing, shifting rather, awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes travelling between Draco, the floor and the window in some odd sort of ritual.

Draco made to move, to get up and retreat once more to his bedroom, his face burned with chagrin and he'd really hate for his cheeks to tint whilst someone else could actually witness the event.

However, as soon as he had even twitched in anticipation for leaving, Potter and put his hands up, palms facing Draco.

"No, please," Potter mumbled self-consciously, "I didn't mean to intrude."

Draco scoffed. Trust Potter to ruin everything and then clumsily try to back track.

"Everyone else is out for the day, getting books and school supplies," He spoke again, this time calmer, "They'll probably be gone for quite a while."

Draco arched a finely sculpted brow, was Potter trying to give him permission to remain where he was?

"Like it matters much," Draco bit back, "I don't need your permission to be here."

Potter gaped at him for a minute before rebuffing the insinuated claim.

"I wasn't trying to suggest that you needed my permission nor was I attempting to give you my permission," Potter spoke carefully, calculatingly, "You're as much welcome here as me, in fa-"

A harsh bark of laughter hit Potter like a bludger.

"In what world do you live, Potter?" Draco ground out venomously, "In what world are you and I equals?"

Potter flinched; to the casual observer it would seem that Draco was claiming to be much better than Potter. However Draco and Potter knew better.

"I am so many multitudes beneath you that the mere idea of us being comparable is laughable," He continued roughly.

Horrified Draco sat wide-eyed staring at the floor. All of the seclusion and practicing the release of honest emotion had left Draco incapable of hiding how he really felt now. Potter being there had taken him quite by surprise, not to mention the burning embarrassment that was still threatening to devour him. In all the chaos he hadn't been able to restrain himself adequately.

"Who told you that?" Potter whispered and even though the sound barely carried itself through the air, Draco could still distinguish the disgust heavily laden within Potters tone.

Draco ground his teeth violently, determined to let nothing else slip through his lips. His whole body trembled with the effort and Potter could see it, Draco was sure of that.

"Malfoy," Potter spoke loudly, sharply, "Who told you that?"

_No,_ Draco thought, _I will not answer that question._

Draco couldn't meet Potters stare, it would be too much, it would irritate him to a point where his barely contained feelings might begin to spill.

There was no straight answer to the question. No one had told him, no one had, had to. It was common knowledge, like knowing that rain is wet. Draco hadn't been told that Potter was better than him, not by anyone else anyhow. Draco had learned that detail all on his own, he had known for quite some time but the actual epiphany had quite conveniently occurred under this very roof.

However, Draco wasn't about to divulge the secrets of his heart to Potter, it led to questions and stress and disgust and pain and worst of all, it would lead to sympathy. Draco didn't need the pitiful sympathy of Potter; the mere thought aggravated his gag reflex.

"Malfoy!" Potter hollered desperately.

Dracos gaze finally met Potters. Potter the damn fool already had his sympathetic face on.

"Sod off," He grumbled as he retreated to his room. He had been an idiot to leave the sanctuary of his solitude.

Potter called after him once, twice- then nothing. Potter didn't attempt to follow him, or to stop him; which suited Draco just fine, he didn't need Potter or anyone else.

Slamming and locking his door Draco slumped against the wall. It wasn't true, but it made him feel a little bit better about being alone.

~::.::~ DRACOCOR ~::.::~ DRAGONHEART ~::.::~

A/N: Sorry it has taken me a while to update again, as I've stated before I'd really like to do this story right and not half ass it. As it is I feel like this chapter could be better but I also think that you all have waited long enough and deserve at least a tidbit.

Thank you to everyone who favourited, alerted and reviewed this story! It means a LOT to me that you do, the favourites and alerts are great encouragement and the feedback is fantastic. I really like to know if people are enjoying the story, what they are enjoying specifically, what they dislike anything, everything.

Can't wait to write more for you.


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